


Muesli

by vibrantankles



Category: Bradley James/Colin Morgan - Fandom, Merlin (TV), Merlin (TV) RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Food Issues, Jealousy, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vibrantankles/pseuds/vibrantankles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley James is a very concerned, very loving, very jealous boyfriend. Sometimes Colin needs to be taught a lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muesli

**Author's Note:**

> I have some of the greatest friends on twitter, and we have some of the best conversations. This whole shameless, unabashed bit of fluff/PWP was prompted, requested and inspired by one such convo! Thank you, and I hope I've done your HOT ideas some justice.
> 
> Warning: some spoilers for Colin's present play, Mojo. Although, if you're a Colin fan, or a Ben Whishaw fan, or a Mojo fan, it's probably nothing you haven't heard about already.
> 
> Another fab twitter friend, the very talented and fabulous Merlocked18, has done a wonderful original artwork for this piece.
> 
> I hope to collaborate with her again soon!
> 
> (Thanks to Mss Dare for helping with embedding!)

"Bradley? You alright, there?”

“Just peachy.”

Bradley was angry about something, Colin could tell. He had been since seeing him in Mojo the night before, his first time seeing Colin’s new play. Bradley had congratulated Colin, told him he’d been “stellar” and “amazing” and “incredible” in it, hugged Colin and told him how proud he was of him.

But ever since they’d met up backstage the night before, after Colin had hastily showered and changed out of his stage-bloodied clothes, there’d been a tension in Bradley. Something about the tightness around his mouth, a tension in his eyes...Colin had no idea what it was about.

“Are you sure? Why’ve you stopped eating your...horse feed?” That was their name for the muesli Colin had somehow persuaded Bradley to take up for breakfast some time ago, with Bradley all along protesting that oats were for horses. When he’d grudgingly tried it though, he’d found it wasn’t that bad. Colin had counted bringing Bradley “over to the dark side” (Again, Bradley’s phrasing, not Colin’s) and having him eat healthy for at least one meal a day a major triumph.

Although, Bradley still wouldn’t go anywhere near Colin’s soy or rice milk. He loved cow's milk. In fact, his 2% carton was still on the kitchen table, which Colin, with his lactose intolerance, gave a wide berth to.

“The real question here isn’t why I’ve stopped eating, it’s why you have, isn’t it?”, Bradley snapped, and Colin felt his eyes widen.

“What?” he asked stupidly.

“What, what?”, Bradley repeated, and reached a big hand out to grasp Colin’s wrist between thumb and forefinger. “You’re too thin again, Colin.”

“I’m playing someone named Skinny!”, Colin protested. “It wouldn’t do to have me looking, you know..”, he gestured ineffectually. “Like last year.”

“Healthy, you mean?”, Bradley said icily.

“I’m healthy, I am, you know I am.”

“That’s not the state I found you in, when I came back from the states...”

Colin snapped his mouth shut. Bradley had returned to London to find Colin felled by illness, so much so that he hadn’t been able to finish his last week in his role in The Tempest. It had been very upsetting for Bradley. He’d been a little bit of a mother hen ever since.

Colin had to admit though, having his love concerned for his well-being made Colin feel all the more loving of him, even as he protested there was no need of it.

Colin slid his chair around to Bradley’s side of the table, laid his head on Bradley’s shoulder. “That was almost two months ago. I’m fine, now, I really am....”

After a moment, Bradley lifted a hand to stroke at Colin’s hair. “You’d better be. Don’t think I don’t know about you at the stage door every night, either. Are you trying to catch pneumonia on purpose, seriously?”

“Bradley!”

“You’re out there with wet hair, just a tee shirt, and it’s freezing outside!”

“Bradley!” Colin repeated. He raised his head to look at his love’s profile, huffed in exasperation. “No one catches a cold from being cold, you know that. We get sick from germs.”

“Thank you, Professor Morgan”, Bradley returned. “And there you are, handling everyone’s programmes and tickets, touching a hundred hands...”

“You’re so cute when you’re all motherly”, Colin teased.

“Piss off!”, Bradley groaned, but even he had to smile at the words, and recognize how he must sound. “Just--eat something, will you?”

“I will if you feed it to me”, Colin answered, lowering his deep voice further and batting his lashes at Bradley.

“You--”...Bradley said. But that was all he said. He grabbed up the packaged dry muesli still on the table, scooped up a spoonful. It was mixed with dried fruit, so Bradley picked out a few of the larger bits with his fingers and began to hand-feed those to Colin.

Of course, Colin couldn’t resist licking Bradley’s fingers, and then sucking on them. Bradley’s hands tasted faintly sweet--probably from the strawberries he’d added to his own bowl. The oats left a somewhat nutty, heady flavor. Colin showed his appreciation by making filthy slurping sounds.

Bradley fanned out his hand so that Colin could lick between his fingers, and twitched slightly when Colin flicked his tongue beneath Bradley’s thumb ring.

When Colin glanced up at Bradley, it was to see Bradley watching him closely, a small smile playing about his mouth.

In his best Oliver twist voice, Colin implored, “Please, sir, may I have some more?”

 

Their breakfast turned out to not be about food at all that morning.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The play was only in its third week, but Colin was loving his time in Mojo. He was truly enjoying working with an accomplished and wonderful cast, too, and the actors had all bonded. They were top men, in Colin’s book.

He especially enjoyed the company of the older cast member, Brendan Coyle, who while more mature than the rest of the lads, also had a ridiculous, unexpected sense of humor and a great deal of warmth. Colin also admired his acting skill and versatility and made a note to himself at least every three days to somehow carve enough time into his schedule to actually watch Downton Abbey.

And then there was Ben. The man was a female magnet. He was confident and well-read and intelligent. He was self-deprecatingly funny, often bitingly so. And there was also a certain degree of sexual attraction between the two of them, Colin was certain. A great deal of it came, of course, from the roles they were playing onstage. If they hadn’t had an undertone of chemistry, the play, and especially several key scenes, would have failed miserably.

But they did have chemistry, and unspoken attraction, and Colin was certainly completely content to keep it that way, being happily involved with Bradley.

Every night, Ben’s character ordered Colin’s to drop his trousers, and Colin did. While tied to a jukebox.

And on the nights Bradley met Colin afterward, he’d glare at Ben if he happened to see him backstage.

Colin was sure he was glaring, even though he was polite and mannerly with everyone (Bradley was nothing if well brought up and friendly to all). Anyone who didn’t know Bradley very well, might not have noticed it, but Colin knew Bradley very well. He saw the way Bradley’s Adam’s apple bobbed a little if Ben should be around, or the way Bradley’s jaw tightened and his eyes followed Ben when he was talking and joking with Colin after the show.

Colin had no idea why.

Bradley’s strop always seem to disappear once they were away from the theater, so Colin never bothered to question him. Maybe Bradley was just a little shy amongst the hordes of fans? Colin could certainly understand that.

But it wasn’t the case tonight. Bradley was stiff and near-silent all the way home, his chiseled, handsome features drawn tight.

Colin made a couple of attempts to ask after him and then gave up, trusting Bradley would tell him what was bothering him when he was ready.

Colin was right. Bradley was ready pretty much the moment they walked in their door.

“Take off your trousers, Colin”.

“Excuse me?”

The door was barely shut, the lights weren’t even on in their flat, Bradley had barely said a word to him, and now he wanted to shag? What was going on here? Colin wasn’t just Bradley’s plaything, after all...

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, I heard you, but I’m wondering why you’re talking to me like that when you haven’t talked to me at all since before the show.”

Bradley moved so quickly, Colin imagined he would have been a blur if the lights had been on. Bradley’s arms shot out on either side of Colin, boxing him in between the wall and Bradley’s chest. He could feel his breath on him when Bradley leaned in and said, “Oh, I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were working. And work you did, didn’t you, you and Ben especially. That trousers scene...you were both enjoying that, weren’t you.”

As turned on as he was by Bradley’s caveman possessiveness, Colin wasn’t about to enter into this without a little bit of a fight.

“I was working! That’s what the script calls for. How can you be jealous when I’m just doing my job? I drop my trousers for him, and...”

“And you like it, don’t you?” Bradley said, almost silkily. “It excites you. And I know it excites him. Doesn’t he know you’re mine?”

Colin licked his lips. Bradley’s low voice, his body pressed against Colin’s, Bradley’s breath against his face here in the dark, and Bradley’s possessive jealousy were all combining to make Colin rock-hard in his jeans.

But Colin wanted more. And he knew Bradley was more than willing to give it to him, too.

“So what if it does excite me? Do you watch us together, and think about doing the same thing to me? Ordering me to drop my trousers, like just now? You’re getting pointers from a stage show...”

Bradley’s growl, from low in his throat, was feral. “I think you need to stop talking right now.”

“Why don’t you make me.”

“Oh, I will.” And Bradley pressed his mouth to Colin’s brutally hard, crushing his lips with his and pressing the length of his body against Colin’s.

When the kiss ended, Colin leaned his forehead against Bradley’s. “You’re ridiculous. You know where you stand with me...”

He felt Bradley smile against his cheek. “You had just better remember it. And Ben had better learn it.”

“Or what? You’ll spank me?”

Oops...

The tiny smile that Colin had felt against his cheek became a full-on grin. Colin could actually feel Bradley’s teeth against his face.

“Now there’s an idea...”

Colin’s cock in his trousers gave a final push into full erectness. _’Oh, shit...’_

“Drop your trousers.”

Oh God, what Bradley’s voice in that low register did to Colin.

Slowly, he popped the button on his jeans and lowered the zipper, but Bradley’s hand stopped him. “Wait, I’ve an idea...”

He pulled Colin with him into the bedroom and snapped on the overhead light.

“Take down your trousers, Colin. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Colin did as he was told, and stood there, in the middle of their bedroom and amongst their domestic clutter, jeans down and thighs naked. Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

He felt his balls twitch in their cotton confinement under Bradley’s gaze.

“Look at you, you’re hard already. Are you hard for Ben every night, too?” There was a teasing, almost sing-song sound to Bradley’s voice now, and even though he knew Bradley was only teasing him, Colin shook his head and answered, “No. I’m acting. I don’t get hard for him.”

“I bet he does for you”, Bradley almost muttered, but Colin had heard him. Colin made an exasperated “Tch!” sound. “Bradley...”

“Oh, he loves it, Colin. You don’t see it because you’re so in the moment, but I know he does. The way he drags the cutlass up your legs...” Bradley’s palm trailed up the inside of Colin’s thigh, and then down again, almost to the knee. Then back up, brushing against his still-clothed balls, and over to the inside of the other thigh. “You’re so lovely, Col. How could anyone not want you...”

“I thought you were saying I was too skinny just the other day...”

That was met with a disciplinary slap to the inside of his right thigh, the sound loud in the stillness.

The sensations of it all, and the anticipation of what he knew was to come, made Colin’s cock leak even as the inside of his leg stung a bit.

He knew Bradley smelled it, because he gently rubbed the place he’d just slapped. “Oh, I can see we’re going to have a good time tonight. You have a lot to learn, don’t you...and I’m going to teach you.”

“I think...” Colin started to say, but his voice came out wrong, too hoarse and gravelly, and Bradley gave his thigh a slight squeeze.

“You shouldn’t do that”, Bradley said sweetly. “That will get you into all kinds of trouble, thinking will. Like tonight. I’ll bet you _thought_ it would be a really good idea to look at Ben like that, and then tease me the way you have, and to not listen to me when I told you what you needed to do. You were wrong, weren’t you. You have been very wrong tonight, in fact, you’ve been very wrong since the play started. I would say a lesson is long overdue.”

“Bradley”, Colin said, but then Bradley’s hands were tugging at him, over to the bed, and Colin stumbled slightly over the trousers at his ankles.

Bradley took advantage of his slight loss of balance by pulling Colin with him when Bradley sat down, a quick jerk of the arm, and then Colin was falling face down, manhandled over Bradley’s lap, with Colin’s long, trussed legs stretched out over the bed, his arms resting on the opposite side of Bradley.

Colin couldn’t help the little squeak of startlement that escaped him.

He glanced up at Bradley to see Bradley looking at him with such a look of feral intensity that it was almost predatory.

Colin nodded at him very slightly, permission given and received. It was their signal of trust, acceptance and promise between them, and Colin laid his head down on the bed, between his arms, and gave himself over to his love.

“You’re right. I have been very bad.”

“Well, admitting it is half the battle. I commend you on your self-awareness.” Bradley’s voice had taken on an almost prissy, headmaster tone, and Colin couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

His punishment for losing his focus was another sharp slap to the opposite bare thigh, and Colin jerked slightly at the sting.

“You’ve learned nothing, though. I can see you need help in remembering to check yourself. I’m afraid a spanking is in order for you, Mister Morgan.”

Colin’s answer to that was to grind his pelvis into Bradley’s, and he was gratified by Bradley’s low grunt in response.

Bradley put his hand on Colin’s y-front clad bottom to hold him still.“You are horrible, just impossible. I guess the time for talking is over, then.”

“I guess so”, Colin agreed, and lifted his hips just slightly when Bradley grasped the elastic of his underpants and pulled them down to mid thigh.

Now Colin was bound both at his ankles and just above the knees with his own clothes, but he could still wriggle. He did so, just for Bradley, moving his bared bottom and arching his back slightly, raising his arse a bit for Bradley’s viewing pleasure.

He had hoped to elicit some sort of sexual response from Bradley--and really, with his lower belly and pelvis in Bradley’s lap, Colin was pretty well aware of the condition Bradley was presently in--but Bradley surprised him. His response to Colin’s seductive taunting was to cover Colin’s arse with one hand and push him flat again into his lap, and then squeeze one of Colin’s arse cheeks.

“You need to understand, Colin. This is mine, for my pleasure. Not for the fans, not for anyone else you work with, and certainly not for that Whishaw bloke..” Bradley squeezed him again, and then rubbed a slow circle on Colin’s arse. “For me, and me alone.”

The words were the calm before the storm. Bradley brought the other hand down, hard, on Colin’s bare rump, catching him across both cheeks, and the loud, loud sound made Colin jump and squeal almost as much as the sting. He had no chance to recover though, because Bradley repeated it again, a half dozen sharp, sharp spanks, very quick, none of them landing on the exact same spot.

Bradley stopped just as suddenly as he’d begun, rubbing soothing, light hands over the tingling in Colin’s bottom and murmuring again how Colin was his, and he was to stop looking at Ben so provocatively. “I see how he looks at you, but that doesn’t mean you can look back...”

The hotness and the tingle of his own bare rear...Bradley’s jean-clad, rock hard cock under him, the smell of pre-cum already heavy in the room, Bradley’s low, seductive voice telling him what to do....

Colin wanted more.

He bent his knees slightly and spread his legs as best he could, bound by denim and cotton. And then ground down as hard as he could in Bradley’s lap.

Bradley’s loud gasp was worth it

The spanking began again in earnest, with Bradley giving him a laundry list of all the reasons Colin was being punished, (“I hardly see you these days! You left your socks on the telly last week!”), and layering his slaps so that Colin’s entire arse soon felt afire.

Colin could only respond to the nonsensical accusations with “I know!” and “Sorry!” and gallant attempts not to giggle while he humped furiously against Bradley’s thighs, trying to get enough friction to grant his aching cock some relief.

He could only imagine the bright colors his backside must be turning.

To this point, the spanking had not really hurt, not really. It stung, true, but that was all part of the game. But--

Bradley’s list of Colin’s defects suddenly took on a different tone, and his slaps to Colin’s posterior ramped up too:

“You’re not eating hardly eating anything and you’re going to make yourself sick again. It’s not good to constantly gain and lose weight! If you make yourself ill and die, where will that leave me? You’re not going to leave me alone...and that co-star of yours had just better stop looking at you like that too!”

If Colin didn’t use Bradley’s voice to ground himself during these “spankings”, if all of his senses weren’t so acutely attuned to Bradley in the moment, he might have missed the hitch in his lover’s breath, the hint of real tears.

“Oh, Bradley...” Colin said, very quietly, looking over his shoulder at him.

The spanking stopped, with one of Bradley’s hands still resting on Colin’s flaming bottom.

From his position on his belly with his arse under Bradley’s hand, Colin murmured, “You know I am always yours, Bradley. Yours and yours alone.”

Bradley seemed to rouse himself slightly at Colin’s reassurance. “Yes, well, you’d just better remember...had enough yet?’

Colin nodded slightly, and felt Bradley shift under him a bit while he reached for something on the nightstand.

A squirting sound, and then Colin was arching himself like a cat. “Jesus that’s cold!”, he howled.

Bradley laughed a little and squirted more of the cool lotion onto Colin’s bottom. “I love it when you buck and flail for me”. But the coolness of the lotion tamped the heat and the sting, and Bradley very carefully, very gently, rubbed and massaged it in.

 _Oh...bliss_ , was Colin’s only thought.

“Here...” Bradley murmured, pulling Colin’s y-fronts down to his ankles. “Spread your legs a bit, if you can...”

Colin could. He knew what was coming....

Bradley dipped a slicked index finger in his cleft, trailing it up, and then down almost to Colin’s balls before repeating the motion again.

“Bradley...”

“Yes, Colin? Did you want something?’

“You know what I want.”

“You’re such a greedy little thing, you and your perfect little bum.” He circled Colin’s entrance lightly, teasingly.

Colin tried to arch up into him, but Bradley knew him too well. “Uh, uh, uh! None of that now!” He removed his fingers from between Colin’s arse cheeks. “I didn’t say it was time yet.”

“You tease!”

But Bradley had, it seemed, decided that Colin had been punished enough. Rather than leave Colin to continue his wanton suffering, his bare bottom upturned in his lap like a very randy turtle, Bradley once again allowed his inherent kindness and his huge sexual appetite to prevail. He quickly poured more of the lotion between Colin’s arse cheeks, dipped his finger in, and then eased it passed the ring of muscle and almost to the knuckle.

He crooked his finger slightly and hit Colin’s sweet spot.

And did it again. And again.

Each time he did, Colin leaked more onto the thighs of Bradley’s denims. Colin wasn’t sure, but he may have heard himself sobbing incoherently with the delight of it all.

When Bradley next added a second, thicker, middle finger to him, it didn’t take long. Colin humped frantically against Bradley’s lap, desperately trying to get some friction on his aching cock and to match the rhythm of Bradley’s fingers inside him, before something deep within seemed to finally part and release, and he spilled.

He was like a string of spaghetti after that, so boneless and liquid-like were his limbs, and Bradley helped ease him off his lap and onto his side (and off his now very sore arse). Bradley then slipped out of his stained jeans and lay heart to heart with him, smoothing his hair back from his sweaty forehead and all but crooning soft words to him. Bradley was also tugging at himself with his other hand, and Colin had to remember belatedly that Bradley had not yet been granted his own reward for his “lesson well taught.”

Colin put his own hand atop Bradley’s and awkwardly added to the pull-and-twist he’d begun, bumping against his belly now and then, until Bradley too spurted and they both lay, pantsless and sticky but still with shirts on, in each others’ arms.

Their sated afterglows were almost always Colin’s favorite part of their shagging. In this close proximity to his lover, he watched while Bradley’s eyelids began to droop as he began to drift off to contented sleep. They both badly needed a shower, but he supposed it could wait until morning.

Colin snuggled as close to Bradley as he could, wrapping one arm lightly around him, and whispered to him, “Anyone can look at me anyway they want, dear Bradley. It doesn’t matter. I’m yours, and I always will be. That’s the way I want it.”

Bradley opened one sleepy eye and peered at him. “Just make sure you eat all your muesli for breakfast tomorrow.”


End file.
